


Selbstlos

by FugalGear



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: (sort of), Depression, Drabble, Eating Disorder, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 03:57:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FugalGear/pseuds/FugalGear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's eyes broke Sebastian's heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selbstlos

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote really quick. I probably should have elaborated a lot with this one, but what the hey.

Jim's eyes broke Sebastian's heart. The beating organ thumped painfully against the man's chest everytime the two of them made eye contact, and it left the man with a certain overwhelming guilt that he could neither shake nor legitimately justify.

Jim's deep brown eyes did not carry the moping sort of sadness he occassionally donned after behaving like a petulant child and not getting his way. Deep within each iris were twin universes, filled with a resolute sort of sadness, dreary and dead and all-consuming. 

Sebastian asked Jim what was wrong, once, when the man hadn't touched food in days. Jim sat silently before slowly turning his gaze to the man. Purposelessness. It may have been too existensial a topic for Sebastian to wrap his head around, but Jim's words made him so cold that he shivered.

Jim hadn't eaten in four days. Plates plentiful with nourishment sat untouched on counters and tables. The pair moved around each other in the flat, practiced and comfortable, but noticeably silent. Sebastian never dared to make eye contact. He knew what he would find.

He yearned to speak with Jim, get him to put something in his system, but how could he? Jim was empty-- hollow-- in every sense of the words. Food was sustenance only at face value. Sebastian knew that if he forced Jim into eating, the man would loathe him. No, Sebastian knew that he could not replace the hollowed-out parts of Jim. Food was fleeting, a promise of something more substantial, more filling, that Sebastian could never fulfill. Jim didn't deserve that.

After five days, with Jim's body growing frail, protesting his fast, Sebastian looked Jim in the eyes, hoping to convey his feelings as resolutely as Jim unknowingly conveyed his despair. He knew that he was too simple a structure, too basic of an organism to give Jim a sense of purpose, but Jim was definitely, selflessly, his. 

Sebastian watched Jim search his face, the trance-like daze swirling clouded in his vision.

Jim took Sebastian's hand in his own, and kissed the back of it.

"Thank you."


End file.
